


Envy of the Gods

by clevelandy



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Ancient Greece, Ancient History, COTTA, Himbo Simon Snow, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Minotaur Simon, Misgendering, Non-Graphic Smut, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, cancel apollo 2020, cancel hades 2020, did i mention that simon is a cow :3, naiad baz, stupid apollo, this fic is called: clev reaches gender euphoria via baz pitch, this fic is for monsterfuckers & trans ppl, trans artemis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27258901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clevelandy/pseuds/clevelandy
Summary: “You are a naiad?”The nymph rolled their eyes.“You are a cow? Or a man. Both?” Their tone was sarcastic. Simon didn’t notice.“I am a man,” Simon frowned. He hadn’t tucked his tail very well- it twitched free as if it wanted to argue with his statement. Simon pretended he didn’t notice. “You don’t… seem like a nymph.”“And what, pray tell, does a nymph seem like?” Sneered the nymph.Or,Orpheus & Eurydice au, but Simon is a minotaur and Baz is a naiad.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39
Collections: Carry On Through The Ages





	Envy of the Gods

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii!!!  
> Thank you so much to [Jay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adamarks/pseuds/Adamarks) and [Bri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrimoniousGoat/works) for all their help on this fic!!!! i luv u 
> 
> Title from the song Cult of Dionysis by The Orion Experience.
> 
> TW for: Minor misgendering, MCD, & death of a trans character.

**I-** **ωατερ**

The summer had been an especially hot one. Simon knew not because the heat bothered him, but because everyone and their mother had mentioned it.

_“It would be lovely to have some temperate days…”_

_“I worry with the heat, you know. My farm…”_

_“It would be lovely if you could petition your father…”_

They meant his real father, of course. Not his step-father, king of Delphi, who was merely responsible for the throne he sat on and the position to listen to their complaints. His step-father was powerful but not as powerful as Apollo. 

Apollo, who had never actually visited, nor answered Simon’s prayers.

Apollo, who had nothing to do with the weather.

 _Helios_ decided how hot it would be. He carried the sun, after all. Apollo decided when a lamp would go out and made Simon good at the lyre.

“Yes, I can understand that would be frustrating. I will try to ask my father.”

“Oh, thank you, Simon.” 

He had once complained that his position in the court was nothing more than a counterfeit oracle, but his step-father was not a man who took criticism well. Now, he realized that, most of the time, sympathy was all anyone wanted. They did not get angry when their prayers weren’t answered- not as much as Simon did. 

He could sympathize with people who thought the gods were assholes. They were. 

On most days, Simon had an array of responsibilities. After listening to the complaints of peasants and nobles alike, he would meander around the court for a few hours, completing various tasks that his father asked of him. 

Simon tried to do what was asked of him without too much complaint, regardless of how much he often disagreed. His father had done a great charity in taking him in, considering his condition. 

Finally, on days when Helios was dragged slow by a lazy horse, Simon would spend his leisure time at a nearby lake.

The lake was close enough to town that Simon didn’t break a sweat, but, because the lake didn’t appear to have any suitable fish for consumption, it never drew anyone else near. It was secluded, surrounded by noise-canceling trees, and the grass surrounding it was as soft as a cushion. He would walk there with his lyre held to his chest, his ears and tail twitching.

When Simon arrived he would strip off the toga he was required to wear on the throne. Then, he would laze around the lake until he couldn’t see, plucking at his lyre leisurely. Some evenings, the nymphs would rise from their respective landmarks and listen to Simon play. 

Simon did not try to hide his delight when they appeared. He enjoyed the attention. None of the dryads dared to separate from their trees, but their skin becoming discernible from the bark they lived in meant Simon had piqued their interest. Within a few measures, Simon had plucked himself surrounded by women. 

He knew from experience that they wouldn’t come and speak to him; dryads are notoriously shy, especially around people like Simon (if you could call Simon, with his hooves and horns and swishing tail, a person). Even if they didn’t talk to him they could watch him from afar; enjoy his bare chest while he enjoyed theirs. No-one would dare to approach the other, but they would stay for as long as Simon was willing to play.

The air always became thick with sap and perfume when the nymphs appeared. It made his eyelids droop. He leaned back against a rock and plucked through his repertoire without thinking. The lyre slowly fell onto his chest; it was bad position-work, but it didn’t stop his hands. He was young enough that positioning didn’t matter and divine enough that pain didn’t worry him.

Movement in the lake caught his attention, but only just enough to draw his eye. His fingers continued over the strings as he gazed lazily over the water. 

He didn’t think that there was a nymph in the lake- he had never seen one there, so he assumed it was just a body of dead water. He’d drank from it the day before, thinking he wasn’t bothering anyone. But the water grew unsteady in a strange manner- looking agitated for only a few square feet, but remaining still all around the remainder of the lake. The water within the void seemed to expand and then contract until suddenly a crown of dark black hair rose from under the surface.

The nymph was turned away from Simon as her body formed- it looked like the water was squeezing together, tighter and tighter until something solid came from it. Her hair, black, wavy, and dripping down her forming back, covered right up until the curve of her backside. Naiads, and nymphs in general for that matter, were generally naked- but the turquoise sight of her body made Simon avert his eyes. 

He looked back down to his lyre.

He had plucked a wrong note while staring at the naiad. A dryad to the left of him had scuttled up her tree in disgust. Simon readjusted his hand and sat up. He was frowning when he looked back up.

She was sitting on a tree branch that had grown just above the water's edge. The dryad whose tree she was sitting on stared at her with malice, but the lake nymph either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Her legs dangled over the water, but the tips of her toes never left the surface. She looked like her body was slowly draining back into the lake, but also like she felt comfortable on her branch.

Also, she had a penis.

 _Oh_. 

“What are you looking at, Cow?”

Simon’s hand faltered; a diminished triad instead of a minor one. He hopped up to his feet, hugging the instrument tight against his chest as if the naiad’s presence would take it away from him. A couple more nymphs scattered; one hissed at him. 

He looked up at the lake nymph. They stared at him with bored ease.

“You are a naiad?”

The nymph rolled their eyes. 

“You are a cow? Or a man. Both?” Their tone was sarcastic. Simon didn’t notice. 

“I am a man,” Simon frowned. He hadn’t tucked his tail very well- it twitched free as if it wanted to argue with his statement. Simon pretended he didn’t notice. “You don’t… _seem_ like a nymph.”

“And what, pray tell, does a nymph seem like?” Sneered the nymph. 

“Well…” 

“Do you expect me to hide and giggle and watch you from just out of reach?”

“Well, a little bit, but-“

“Or what then? To fawn over you because you can pluck that thing?”

“Well, no. But now that you mention it…

“You expect me to seduce you? You think I would want to?”

Simon stomped a hoof into the dirt and kicked it back. Dirt propelled at the last lingering dryads, who hissed and sunk back into their trees. His lyre was set haphazardly down on the rock.

“No,” He huffed, “I just thought that nymphs were all women.” 

A droplet of water slid down the nymph’s neck, before being swallowed by the thin skin of their chest. They stared at Simon for a long while, until Simon felt his tail begin to twitch uneasily. Then they spoke, voice as cool as if the lake had frozen.

“I was granted my manhood by the gods. Your nearest aunt, to be precise. Despite her detestation of men, her concerns for gender are not skin deep. She has an understanding of who people truly are.”

Simon didn’t have to ask how the naiad knew who his aunt was; most gods could tell who his father was just by looking at him. Humans knew he was partially divine too- aside from the bull parts, Simon’s skin was gold, shining just bright enough to appear abnormal. 

He wondered what the naiad saw when he looked at him, as he was neither mortal nor god. Did he just look like a bull? Do naiads like bulls?

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m a man,” He snapped. His webbed ears twitched and spread. 

“Okay,” Simon replied, staring at his ears. His own ears picked up the sound of his heart pounding.

He wasn’t sure if the naiad accepted this answer because he hopped down from his branch instead of speaking. His body seemed to disappear when it met the water- or maybe it appeared more. Maybe the whole lake was his body. Either way, the upper half of the naiad traveled across the lake until he came to the nearest bank. Then, as if it took no ease to pull himself from the water, he hopped up and sat on the water’s edge.

“Stop staring at me. There is nothing wrong with me,” he tossed back over his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry. There isn’t anything wrong with you. You are just… beautiful.”

The naiad stared at him for another long moment. His eyes were grey- you’d think they’d be blue, given the water and all, but they were grey. Like the sea against the shore during a storm, the nymph didn’t seem to find an issue with pummeling Simon’s face with his gaze.

“Well. Are you going to continue playing?”

**II-** **βυλλ**

“You are not very good.”

“Not all of us are descendants of Apollo.”

The lyre was wet. The gut was unwinding.

They were already false, which is maybe why Simon let Tyrannus’ cold fingers onto it in the first place. 

(That’s not true. Simon would’ve let him play it even if he had just changed the strings. But Tyrannus must have known they were false, or he wouldn’t have asked to play.)

“Mm,” Simon hummed, leaning over to rest his head against Tyrannus’ now merely-damp shoulder. A pitiful pluck came from his hand- a six instead of a five. A delayed cadence. A planet misrepresented if Pythagoras was right about the spheres. Perhaps it would fall from the sky. Simon didn’t care. He yawned. “I am grateful for that.”

“It is because I can’t play with you leaning on me like this,” Tyrannus whined, shifting his shoulder under Simon’s head. 

“Don’t blame me,” Simon grumbled. He sat up and nudged at the nymph until he freed his lap, where Simon then laid his head. If he leaned too far he would fall into Tyrannus’ lake, where the naiad currently had his feet dipped in. Instead, he rested his ear against his boyfriend’s stomach. Simon had brought him wine- he liked it. His stomach was very slightly pink. 

“Oh, I will absolutely blame you. You are supposed to be teaching me, demigod. Instead, you are digging your horn into my stomach.”

Simon shrugged but moved his head away a little bit to avoid bursting him open.

He liked to hear what Tyrannus played because it wasn’t refined. The sound was wholly his own, not something he learned and repeated from lessons. It was what was inside him, amplified by unfamiliarity. 

Simon couldn’t remember being bad at playing the lyre- it would be unbecoming if the son of Apollo couldn’t play, so he was put into lessons as soon as he could manage to hold an aulos. That’s not to say it didn’t come easy to him, nor did he dislike playing, but something about the way that Tyrannus fumbled made his ears itch. He liked it. (Then he could get Tyrannus to scratch behind his ears)

Simon closed his eyes when Tyrannus rested the body of the lyre against his shoulder. He could feel the vibrations leaving Tyrannus’ fingers and expelling through the thin wooden board. If he inhaled when Tyrannus plucked he felt like the vibration could spread through his whole body. A piece of the naiad’s voice disrupting his bloodstream.

“ _You_ are very beautiful,” Tyrannus said, after a long while. 

Simon opened one eye to look at him, but he must have fallen asleep- he found that the chariot had nearly completed its flaming journey. He was glad that his father was the god of all light but the sun- he didn’t like the idea of him traveling the sky while he fell asleep on his boyfriend’s bare lap, innocent as it was. 

Then again, Apollo had never shown much interest in Simon’s affairs. Otherwise, Simon might ask him to stay in the sky for long enough for Simon to commit all of Tyrannus’ moving features to complete memory. 

Simon smiled. He hadn’t noticed that Tyrannus had carefully placed the lyre to the side. Now his hand was curled in Simon’s hair, petting gently around where the small bones protruded from his skull. 

Simon kept his hair long to hide them. He wore unfashionable boots to cover the hooves. He kept his tail tucked.

But when they laid together, Tyrannus would pat down and part his hair until he could see the horns. He would strip Simon of everything but his loincloth and wrap Simon’s tail around his wrist. He didn’t allow clothing or boots at his lake. 

“Though I wish you had more fur,” he sighed, walking his fingers down between Simon’s pectorals. He squeezed Simon’s breast. “For consistency’s sake. Your chest is rather bare, for a Minotaur.” 

Simon laughed at that, squirming in his lap.

“The Minotaur is a monster, Tyrannus. I am not a monster.”

“Then what are you? His friendly cousin?”

“I am your boyfriend.”

“Is that it? I’m your boyfriend too, but I’m other things as well.” Simon shrugged and turned his face into Tyrannus’ stomach to catch his yawn. He felt like a warm bath. “For example, an excellent musician.”

Simon snorted but didn’t bother to move his head. 

“What else are you…” Tyrannus continued, slowly scratching Simon’s scalp. Simon resisted the urge to kick. “Son of Apollo, the future king of Delphi…”

“I do not wish to be those things, Tyrannus,” He mumbled against his skin.

“No? Then what do you wish to be? A better lay?”

Simon rolled over, pushing Tyrannus onto his back. He crawled over the nymph, nudging his broad nose against Tyrannus’ hooked one. Tyrannus grinned mischievously, sliding his hands up into Simon’s tousled hair.

“Perhaps your husband?” 

Tyrannus was quiet for a moment. His eyes closed.

“I think that suits you well.”

**III -** **ξονσυμματε**

His skin was soft. Simon worried about grabbing him too tightly; with skin this soft, fluid could burst through. He could pop him. The image made him want to stop. But, just then, Tyrannus gasped Simon’s name and all of the blood left Simon’s brain. 

He could be gentle. 

Tyrannus’ skin was as warm as it was soft. No, it was hot. _Simon_ was hot. Boiling hot. He glanced down at where they connected, unsure which one of them was landlocked and which was a tanned hide. 

“Oh _, Simon.”_

He moved a hand from his waist to his shoulder. Even there, where the gods had granted him bone, Tyrannus felt too soft. 

He could be gentle. He just had to _focus_.

“Here. Touch here,” Tyrannus insisted. His voice was hushed but urging. Simon’s comprehension was a step behind- everything felt slow. He had once entered a bath where the water had been replaced with scented clay. “Please.” 

But this smelled of freshwater and olive oil. Wheat, earth, and a little bit of smoke.

“Huh?” Simon’s hand was replaced. The gods had granted Tyrannus with bone. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Tyrannus echoed, eyes going wide for a moment as if he had discovered something. His lips parted and his eyebrows met together. Simon was entranced.

Tyrannus made a thick sound at the back of his throat.

Simon’s grip tightened.

Tyrannus didn’t burst. 

Instead, Tyrannus’ hips lifted off the damp grass, feeling more and more solid. Simon moved his hand faster, watching how his eyes unfocused. He was only mildly surprised when Tyrannus’ hands shot up to his head.

Tyrannus made Simon’s hair damp as he gripped and prodded. Sweat, or maybe condensation, trickled down his chest. 

Then, Tyrannus grabbed his horns with both hands.

“ _Oh.”_

The gods had granted Simon with bone too. He had never thought of them as a gift before. 

“That is okay?”

Simon grunted. He exhaled loudly. He felt simultaneously jerked back to reality and also somewhere above Mount Olympus. There were tears in his eyes. He let them close, feeling his too-long eyelashes brush the tops of his cheeks. 

Tyrannus lifted his hand, pushing Simon’s hair from his face before returning to his horn. He rubbed his thumb into the place where the bone protruded from his skin. 

Simon had never noticed the pressure there until it was eased by Tyrannus’ prodding fingers. He didn’t know that letting someone touch his horns would make his breath hitch in his throat.

A teardrop fell onto Tyrannus’ chest. Maybe it was condensation.

“Simon?”

“It-” He spluttered. He leaned in closer. It was hard to keep moving steadily; he just wanted to be closer. “Good.”

A hand left one of his horns and cupped his cheek. Tyrannus swiped his thumb and absorbed the tear sliding down Simon’s skin. 

Tyrannus whispered. His voice was so smooth. Not delicate, but smooth. Simon was beginning to learn that.

_“I love you.”_

Then he gripped Simon’s horn, tugged him forward, and drowned him with his mouth.

**IV-** **σνακε**

When Tyrannus was born, he had no form. 

Tyrannus had been born when the Anemoi had squabbled; the wind titans had twisted and turned so tightly that they gathered a reservoir of freshwater beneath them. Not knowing what they had done, the Anemoi reconciled and returned to their corners of the world.

The puddle, infantile and alone, spread with each rainfall, until he became a stream. For years the stream spread, lengthening instead of deepening, searching the lands for someone who could make sense of him. 

One day, the stream, now a river, inched into the realms surrounding Artemis and her companions. Thinking that he was a body of water sent by Alpheus, the river god who lusted after her virginity, Artemis approached the growing body with the intent to kill him. It was a nymph, a naiad who had recently joined Artemis’ coterie, who stopped her and explained- he was merely a child. 

Artemis, realizing her folly, raised Tyrannus from the water. The naiad then taught him to take advantage of his solid form and showed him how to separate from his lake. Together, they taught Tyrannus to speak and to let creatures drink from the lake he lived in. They taught him to root in the ground and grow in depth instead of in length. They taught him the secrets and expectations of being a naiad. And, when he returned with a request long after having grown out of the body the Titans had given him, they taught him how to be a man. 

When Tyrannus died, he was a man. 

He was lounging on the shore, waiting for Simon to arrive. Even after they announced their betrothal, Simon would occasionally have to leave the lake to tend to things in the kingdom. Luckily, Simon’s father viewed marrying a nymph as a demonstration of strength on Simon’s part, meaning Simon always wandered back by the end of the day.

His absence was a small price to pay for two men without a dowry. 

The grass surrounding his lake was soft and forgiving. It was easy for Tyrannus to laze there, drying off before his husband returned. Simon insisted that he didn’t mind that Tyrannus wet his fur, but he thought he might have been lying.

His thoughts drifted to the night before. Simon had looked almost as wet as him. He had looked hungry. Wet and hungry- because of _him_. 

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in his ankle. Tyrannus cursed and jumped up. A grey snake slithered away in the grass.

Perhaps the snake thought that he was immortal. Some naiads were, or, at least, weren’t afflicted by the same diseases as mortals- a poisonous snake bite would be nothing more than an inconvenience. Or, perhaps the snake believed that his poison would be diluted by the water of Tyrannus’ body. Maybe Tyrannus had unknowingly encroached too close to her nest.

By the time Simon returned to the clearing, the reason didn’t matter. His bones, granted by the gods, did nothing to prevent his body from going limp in the arms of his lover.

**V-** **σαξριφιξε** ****

When bulls sense that their herd is in danger, they bellow loud enough to shake the ground. Even if the other cattle can't hear them, the ground shudders under their hooves with the sound of his voice. Their presence vocally guides the herd to safety.

Simon was not bull enough to shake the ground. And now, he was alone. 

He went deep into the forest. He wished for death. He prayed for it, harder than he had prayed for anything before. 

When those prayers too were ignored, he decided it was time to move on.

He slit the neck of a goat. 

The goat did not bleat but stared at Simon until he was no longer seeing. Simon watched the blood drain from its horizontal eyes, knowing full well that his own would look just as thick. It stained the tunic he wore. He took it off.

He poured the blood into a pit. 

He was not granted death. 

A cave opened.

**VI-** **ξερβερυσ**

Cerberus did not look how Simon expected him to.

Simon’s father had had dogs. Hunting dogs, as well as a few companions. Most of them didn’t like him. He understood- he didn’t smell right. Most would cower or snap at him. 

Cerberus was a sheepdog.

A giant, three-headed sheepdog. His overgrown fur covered all three sets of eyes. 

He was white with black spots and all three heads had lolling tongs. The ground surrounding him was covered with white fur. He sat in front of a giant door.

He had intended to charge in with his horns, but when he came racing in, Cerberus was laying on the dusty floor.

He skidded to a stop just before hitting the nearest nose. 

Cerberus lifted and cocked his heads. A tongue lolled out from the middle one. The third one leaned down and pushed his nose against Simon’s stomach, sniffing intensely.

“Oh,” Said Simon, setting his hand on the damp skin of his nose, “Uh, hello.” 

The third nose nudged at him again, pushing him backwards. The first one shook his hair out to try to uncover his eyes. The middle one sneezed.

Simon doubled over his attempt to stay upwards; his hooves stuttered against the dirt floor. 

Cerberus nudged his nose against Simon once again, pushing him onto his back. His tail began to swish. The wind created by it brushed the fur from the first head’s eyes; seeing Simon only made his tail wag faster. 

Simon should’ve charged.

He wouldn’t have won, but at least he’d be killed faster.

Cerberus lifted his head away from Simon once he gathered enough information with his giant black nose. The three heads looked at each other as if in silent conversation. Then, the middle head leaned down and licked Simon with his giant, hot tongue.

“ _Whaa_?!” Simon exclaimed, wiping the slime off his face. 

The look of him wiggling on the floor just made the dog happier. He lowered his heads and lifted his butt in the air, tail swishing violently. Simon rose to his feet and was met with Cerberus, inching forward and presenting his heads to Simon.

“Oh,” Simon said, still rubbing saliva off of his face. “You’re... dog.”

Cerberus barked in unison, wiggling his backside faster.

Simon reached forward and scratched the top of one of Cerberus’ heads. The one next to him butted in, trying to get to Simon’s hand. Meanwhile, the third one barked again. 

Suddenly Cerberus jumped to his feet and started bounding around the chamber. The head Simon was petting didn't pay close enough attention- his extended neck tripped the other two and left the dog tumbling to the ground to the right of Simon. 

“Oh no!” Simon exclaimed, running over to the fallen monster. The dog sat up quickly and began panting from all three heads. Simon hesitated, suspicious at himself for being so concerned about him, before reaching up to pet his chest. “Are you okay?”

Cerberus didn’t bark. Instead, he stood and nosed at Simon. He repeated the action with all three heads until Simon started to understand what was happening- Cerberus was herding him towards the door.

He was a sheepdog, Simon realized, and Simon was cattle. 

He wasn’t here to keep people out. He was here to keep people in. 

Simon wasn’t sure if that made him feel more or less unsettled.

He turned and patted one of Cerberus’ heads before entering the realm of the dead. 

**VII-** **φερρψ**

The majority of Hades past Cerberus was not a fun place. He glanced back, half-wondering if he could leave, but Cerberus was blocking the door.

That made sense to him. 

Hades appeared to be a giant cave. A cave, but the size of the entire world. Simon couldn't see past the shadowed horizon.

He wasn’t sure where Tyrannus would be, nor how hard it would be to bring him back out once he found him. In fact, he wasn’t sure where to go at all. All he could do was walk forward. 

Luckily, a path of stone had risen from the depths. Otherwise, Simon would be swimming in the pits of lava which littered the ground. It was foggy enough that he had to step carefully, or he’d fall into the pits anyway. 

The worst part for Simon was the fact that he walked totally alone. He thought that the spirit realm would be full of souls floating in. For what felt like miles, Simon didn’t come across another sentient thing. His eyelids began to sink and his head grew heavy on his shoulders, but no other soul joined him on the journey. 

He wasn’t sure how he’d find Tyrannus’ soul if there were no souls to find.

Finally, the fog spread to reveal that Simon had to walk down a long flight of stairs. Simon ran a hand through his hair- he wasn’t sure what was at the bottom, but he could just barely hear running water. 

The journey down the stairs took longer than Simon thought it would, as Simon traveled so deep into Hades that he feared he would never see sunlight again. When Simon felt his chest begin to tighten with primal fear he stopped, looked around him and gulped down deep breaths.

Tyrannus waited for him. 

His hooves didn’t get good traction on stone, and his ankles were just barely flexible enough to support his descent, so Simon had to hold onto the walls that enclosed the staircase to make sure he didn’t fall on the rest of the way down. Especially so when, as he got closer and closer to the bottom, the light from the lava above didn’t seem to be able to reach the stone floor. After a while, Simon traveled in complete darkness. He couldn’t even see his own body.

Finally, Simon stepped forward and found that he was met with solid ground instead of steps. His knee crumpled in preparation for a step down, and Simon fell onto his backside. He sighed, sitting in the complete darkness for just a moment before getting up to his feet. 

He didn’t know where to go, and standing in the darkness did nothing to adjust his eyes, so Simon began to step forward. He thought he had heard running water before, but now he was sure he did- he was walking towards water. The sound of it made his heart race- he associated it with Tyrannus. Tyrannus, he thought, who was definitely down here somewhere. His pace picked up without him noticing.

Simon’s sight was suddenly filled with a piercing white- a grinning skeleton rose from the darkness so instantly that Simon walked right into him. The bone was such a bright white that it shone in the dark, straining Simon’s eyes so he felt as if he’d gone blind.

Simon stumbled back with a shout, hooves skidding on the smooth stone until he tumbled to the ground. He struggled to his feet, backing up into the darkness. 

It was no use- no matter where he ran he came upon the skeleton again. 

He wasn’t chasing him. He just stood there. Each time Simon backed away from him and came upon him again he realized- the skeleton was just standing there, a hand outstretched to reveal his empty palm.

“What do you want?!” Simon shouted at his face. His voice echoed back to him. It sounded garbled, snarly and low. The skeleton didn’t answer- just stared at Simon with empty holes.

The holes where his eyes should be caught Simon’s gaze. The darkness inside them was somehow darker than the room was. 

They looked as if light had never existed.

Like the deepest depth of the ocean.

Dark fur splitting open to reveal thick blood, spilling into a sacrificial pit.

Simon, feeling the fear rise up in his chest again, lifted his lyre from the hook at his belt and smashed it against the skeleton’s head. 

Nothing passed the skeleton’s face as it lifted its hand just before the collision, pushing the lyre away from him and Simon onto the floor in the process.

The skeleton placed his hand out again. 

Simon huffed, standing again and grating his hoof against the floor. The boney hand was what caught his attention now. He was sure he’d always had it out, but he didn’t know why he didn’t notice it before.

“What do you want?” Simon asked. “I do not have any money.”

The skeleton didn’t answer. 

An idea struck Simon. He placed his lyre in the skeleton’s hand, heart beating fast.

The skeleton dropped it.

Simon squinted at him, bending over to find the instrument in the darkness. Aside from the skeleton’s feet, there was nothing to see. It took Simon a few minutes of feeling around in the dark to find it. His fingers brushed over the gut string, plucking a sharp note to contrast with the dull white noise. 

The skeleton took a step back.

“Where are you going?” Simon exclaimed, surprised by his sudden movement. He gripped his lyre to his chest, ready to chase the skeleton. The skeleton didn’t move- stunned into the same deadly stillness as before.

Simon frowned, brushing his fingers over the strings thoughtlessly. He wasn’t sure how to get out from here, especially without any money. 

The skeleton took another step back.

Simon gasped, suddenly realizing what he had to do.

He played. He danced his fingers over the strings, plucking over the tones he had plucked over thousands of times before. 

Like the nymphs before him, the skeleton revealed himself to Simon in response to the sound of his music. But, instead of revealing his body or his feelings, the skeleton revealed his identity by guiding Simon to his rickety boat.

The skeleton was Charon- The Ferryman.

The skeleton was bringing him to Hades.

**VIII-** **Ηαδεσ**

The door opened without Simon even knocking. 

Hades’ throne room was brighter than the entire realm. The floor was a cool marble and the walls, though too far off for Simon to pay any mind to them, were a cool and crisp white. Bright lights shone from circular holes in the ceiling, but Simon couldn’t tell if they were candles or opening to the outside. The room was entirely empty aside from Hades, sat on a metal throne, and a goat sitting next to him. 

Hades was a small man with a round head. He didn’t have eyebrows and his circular glasses rested too low on his nose. He was reading from a pile of yellowed papers and tapping his fingers against the arm of his shoddy throne. 

Simon wasn’t sure why everyone was so afraid of him. He was the least frightening thing he’d seen since getting there, short of Cerberus. 

“Um, hello, sir, I-”

“Yes, I got your goat,” Hades cut, motioning to his right. He had just assumed it was a normal goat, but he realized then that it was the exact goat that he had sacrificed- how many people sacrifice to the god of death?

The goat stared at Simon with an unsettling intensity. Simon would’ve apologized to him, but there was more at stake than the goat’s feelings. 

Hades sighed after a moment, flipping through some papers with his long fingers. He spoke again without looking up. “You wish to… save your husband.”

“Yes.”

“And why,” he dragged, “would I allow that?”

“I-“

“Do you know how many husbands die a year?” He snapped his fingers and golden numbers appeared in the air. They materialized and disappeared so fast that Simon couldn’t actually see them. He snapped again. “How many naiads?” Again, “How many people who claim to be in love? These concepts do not matter to me, Simon. It was his time.”

“But- he-“

“What, Simon? He was your soulmate?” Hades rolled his eyes, but the action finally lifted his eyes from his papers. He must not have gotten a good look at Simon when he walked in, because once his eyes lifted from the papers they didn’t leave Simon again. His voice grew softer, more thoughtful. “That very well may be true, but that doesn’t mean I can bring him back to life. You need a better reason.”

Simon was trying not to let the tears spill from his eyes. Why would Hades let him get this far if he wasn’t going to help him?

“I’ll.. I’ll do anything.”

“I’m not sure I believe that, Simon.” He paused, lifting his hands up in defense. His eyebrows would’ve raised, if he had any. “I am not trying to be cruel. I don’t know why you mortals all think me to be cruel. I simply have a job to do- the souls on earth cannot exceed a certain number. Tyrannus died so that another naiad could live. The order of the universe is more important than your feelings."

“But I-“

“You think you are an exception because you are a demigod. Apollo has passed down his arrogance, I see,” He moved his hand in the air- a few numbers appeared and then disappeared. “People lose someone important every day, Simon. You two aren't special.” 

Simon clenched his jaw. Far off, he heard a scream. It was the first indication that this was actually the land of the dead. 

“You mustn’t get angry with me. There is no place for emotion here- only facts. Only numbers,” Hades continued, staring Simon down with his deep-set eyes. “And the fact is this: there is nothing you can give me that would sufficiently equate to the soul of your husband. I truly, truly am sorry for your loss, but-“

Hades paused inexplicably, head cocked to the side. Suddenly his face appeared brighter- Simon could see every pore on his skin. It looked like Hades held a candle to his face. 

His eyes narrowed for a moment, and he nodded as if having a conversation that Simon couldn’t see or hear. After a long silence, Hades sighed again and stood, picking up a pile of papers from the table next to him and beginning to walk out of the room. 

“Okay,” He announced over his shoulder with minimal interest. His robes flowed unnaturally around him, and Simon noticed that he was being followed by the ram and a wiggling group of beetles that all but filled his robe up to his ankles. “You may leave with him. Turn around, walk out of this realm, and do not look back. If you look back, even once, he will be trapped here forever.”

**IX-** **φαιλυρε**

When Simon met Tyrannus, he was struck with how smooth he could move. He sunk in and out of the water with ease. He rose from the depths without a sound. He embodied grace in a way that his clunky hooves had never dreamed of.

But, as Simon left Hades’ throne room, he wished, for the first time in his life, that Tyrannus’ movements would make a sound.

Or that he’d speak to him.

Or that he’d trip.

The anxiety, thicker than ambrosia in his veins, settled in quickly. But he could not look back, not even once. 

He reboarded the boat and sat down, closing his eyes to evade the torturous grin that Charon sported. 

Charon took off from the dock immediately. Simon squeezed his eyes shut. He was not sure if Tyrannus had enough time to get on the boat behind him. Charon could very well have left him at the shore. Simon had no reason to trust the skeleton.

Simon bounced his leg. Tyrannus would have slapped his knee to get him to stop. Instead, the boat bounced side to side.

His eyes remained closed until he felt the boat stop moving. Charon must have stayed in the boat because Simon didn’t feel it move. Tyrannus might have stayed too. 

Simon stepped out of the boat, eyes trained to the ground. He paused at the shore, ear straining for the sound of his husband leaving.

He only heard running water. 

With a deep sigh, Simon continued forward. 

The darkness he had walked through, confusing at first, was now suffocating. Not only did he not know if Tyrannus was behind him, but he didn’t know if Tyrannus could see him. Tyrannus could’ve gotten lost after Simon got out of the boat.

Simon closed his eyes- he couldn’t see anyway, so there was no point in looking. At least then he could keep himself from looking back. 

He only found the staircase because he kicked them. His eyes opened, straining for any form of light, but found that he still couldn’t see.

Even if he looked back, he wouldn’t be able to see Tyrannus. Maybe, he thought, Hades wouldn’t count it if Simon couldn’t actually see Tyrannus. 

Instead, Simon stepped up.

He couldn’t see. His hooves slipped on every other step. 

He thought of Tyrannus’ hair. Soft, slick. Never fully dry. Simon liked to smell it. It always smelled of plants. 

It was harder to go up the stairs than it was to go down. Before, at least, he had an idea of how large the stairs were- all he had to do was step down and trust his instinct. Now, though, he felt as though he never knew how high to step up. 

Tyrannus’ skin, soft and turquoise. Simon would watch the water run beneath it for hours, wondering how his husband worked. Knowing he would never know the secret. 

It was also physically harder. Simon was panting. His legs burned. His muscles were strained- including his ears, which found nothing coming from behind him. Shouldn’t Tyrannus be panting as well?

He paused on the steps, holding the walls on either side of him. 

A sound pulled at his ears. It could’ve been a pebble falling from the step behind him. 

It was enough.

Eventually, his eyes caught the light. It grew steadily brighter as Simon rose, sweating and shaking until Simon came up to the lava pools. 

Tyrannus’ lips. They were always cool. A fresh drink. 

He made his way through the trail, mindful to keep his eyes on the ground. He hoped that Tyrannus was following closely enough to dodge the lava pools. He wished he’d grab onto his shoulders, or that he’d let him carry him. At least, then, he would know he was there and safe.

The way up to Cerberus’ door seemed a lot shorter on the way up. Perhaps he was too preoccupied to notice.

Cerberus himself did not give Simon issue. He wagged his tail as he saw the man approaching, but the joy quickly drained from the dog’s expression. He stood there, motionless, as he watched Simon step up to the door. All three heads cocked.

When Simon got to the door he stepped to the side and watched him pass it. Simon reached out a hand to pet over one of his snouts, but Cerberus ducked his head.

Simon kept walking. 

It wasn’t until he could see the light of day peeking around the corner that Simon thought he might make it. He had been so afraid of losing Tyrannus to the dangers of Hell that he hadn’t thought that they actually might make it. In a moment, the thickness holding his stomach hostage lifted. 

But, just as fast, an even more palpable anxiety settled in. His hands shook uncontrollably. His throat tightened. 

_What if Hades had lied?_

_All gods lie._

Simon could see the entryway. 

He couldn’t leave without Tyrannus. He couldn’t let the door close behind him without knowing that Tyrannus was with him. If Hades had lied, he would march right back down and charge at him. He would mow him down until he would let Tyrannus go.

But he wouldn’t be able to do that if the doors to Hades closed. 

Simon marched up to the entrance and stood just at the mouth of the cave. He could see Tyrannus’ lake. He could see the tent that they shared. He just needed to grab him and run.

It was just one step. 

He turned around.

**X-** **γοδσ**

It is said in some legend that a naiad will drown the one she falls in love with. She will see his beauty and want to keep him. 

Simon thought he knew what drowning felt like when he kissed Tyrannus. Heart racing, breathless. He was wrong. 

There were no depths as deep as what he sat in outside of the entrance of Hades. No ocean as wide as Tyrannus’ eyes had gone as he got sucked back down. 

“You are a satyr?”

Simon whipped his head up. A glob of snot dripped from his snout of a nose. The young traveler made a face and clutched his satchel closer to his chest. He took a step back, staring at Simon with frightful intrigue. Simon wiped his nose with the back of his hand. 

“No. There is no such thing.”

“Then what are you?” 

Simon closed his eyes, placing his head in his hands. He felt the sobs building in his throat, but no tears came to his eyes. The pain was dry.

“Please leave me alone,” He said quietly. His tail twitched erratically. 

The man circled around him, squinting at his form. He seemed to be calmed by Simon’s lack of movement, but he kept at a distance from him 

“You surely are not a nymph. Nymphs are beautiful.”

Simon didn’t answer. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

The young man was silent for a moment. Simon thought he may have left. But then his voice, clear and chirpy, started up again.

“Oh. You are the Minotaur! You are a long way from Crete. I believe we are near Delphi.”

“I am _not_ the Minotaur.”

Simon felt a hand wrap around his horn. The man tugged his head forward, unsteadying him. He gritted his teeth together.

“If you are not the Minotaur then why do you have horns?” He asked, tugging Simon again. “Huh? Why?” 

Simon squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his jaw. Just as he moved to swipe his fist, the man disappeared.

“Go,” A voice said. 

Simon looked up. The traveler was gone. He was already a few yards away, stumbling as he tried to get away.

The voice had golden skin and curly hair.

“He will contract the plague for what he did to you,” Apollo said, looking smug. He looked down at his nails before looking up at Simon. “Don’t give me that look. He will live.”

He took a deep breath. “You must bring me back into Hades.” 

Apollo sighed, his posture slouching and his eyes rolling up.

“I can’t,” He practically whined. Simon instantly wanted to punch him even more than the traveler.

“You must. I need to retrieve him.”

“Simon.” He said, his voice suddenly firm. “He is dead.”

Simon hopped up to his feet. Apollo was about three feet taller than him, but he slouched so hard that he almost appeared mortal.

“He is not. I saw him. I saw the look in his eyes. He is alive.”

“No, Simon, you saw Hades. He would never have allowed you to exit with him. He tricked you into believing you failed,” Apollo said. He placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “You must accept that the nymph has died. I cannot help you enter again, or you will die.” 

Simon jerked his shoulder, throwing Apollo’s hand off of him. “Then what are you doing here? What have you ever done for me besides forcing me into existence? You have thrown me into the world with nothing but hooves to stand on. Why pretend that you care about what happens to me if you never have?”

Apollo froze, calculating, before placing both hands on Simon’s shoulders. Simon’s hands were in fists at his sides as Apollo took a deep breath and continued. He spoke slowly, over-enunciating each word as if Simon were stupid.

“I do care, Simon. The only way you can get him back is to trade a soul for a soul. He would be alone in this realm, while you will be alone in Hades. It will be the same.” 

“Then I will kill myself to join him.”

“Simon! You can’t throw your life away for-

“For the only person who has ever understood me? Seen me as more than a monster of your twisted creation? I would rather be in Tartarus with him than on Earth alone.”

“Simon. You have a life ahead of you. You can be the greatest hero that Greece has known.”

“I did not ask to be born, Apollo.”

Apollo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and lowering a hand to his hip. Simon didn’t like how he looked at him. He had no right to treat him like a child. Not now. 

“I can’t live with myself if I let you die for a _nymph_ ,” Apollo said, laughing incredulously. 

“Then do not live. The world does not need music so much as it needs him.”

It was easy to forget he was a god. But Simon was already an animal. The only thing Apollo could do was smite him. 

Simon blinked and Apollo was gone. He was not surprised. 

He sat on the ground and stared ahead of him. The lake was smaller than before. He felt hot rage bubbling between his ears.

“You are looking for Tyrannus?” Asked a voice.

“Apollo, I-“ He froze when his gaze steadied on the shimmering form before him. Her skin was a deep grey, shimmering like silver. She was naked from the waist up, but her chest was completely flat. Her dark hair was tied into two braids and she wore loose-fitting pants. Simon knew who she was. 

“You are looking for Tyrannus?” She repeated. Her gaze was unfaltering, battering at Simon’s face as if she were hunting him. Despite being his father’s twin, she looked more regal than he ever could. If Apollo had mastered the art of distance, Artemis, like the moon peeking through the clouds in the daytime, understood calm presence. “The naiad?” 

“Yes. He is in Hades,” He responded after a deep breath. She looked down at him, blinking slowly. Her eyelashes were long. She was even taller than Apollo. “Apollo says I must trade a soul for a soul to retrieve him.” 

“Apollo is not helpful,” She flatlined. “I’m sure you are aware.”

“Yes.” 

“Hades requests the soul of a man, correct?” 

“Yes.”

“But Tyrannus’ soul is part water, part man,” Artemis said, as if everyone already knew that. “Which means that half of a man’s soul would suffice.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You are half bull, are you not?”

She lifted a hand and flicked her wrist. Simon noticed first that the hair under her arms was long, then, that the movement of her wrist caused the ground to rumble.

He turned around.

Hades had been opened again. 

He turned back to look at Artemis. Her form was sparkling just slightly as she began to deteriorate. He handed her his lyre. 

“It is for him. I won’t be able to give it to him.”

She nodded solemnly, before lifting her hand to the sky. The lyre lifted. A constellation formed.

She was gone when he looked back down. 

Simon thought of his mother. He had never been allowed to meet her. He was not sure if she was still alive.

Simon turned to the cave.

**XI-** **μεν**

The winter was unseasonably warm. Spring was basically summer.

Apollo doesn’t have any say on the path the sun takes. Helios carries the sun across the sky. 

Regardless, the warmth helped soften the blow. The grass they laid on was warm and comforting. It helped Tyrannus hold onto hope for some way to fix him.

Hades would never let that happen. 

Simon knew that. Tyrannus could try to hold onto hope for divine intervention, but Simon knew what he signed away. He had seen the look in Hades’ eyes.

He could mourn his loss without regretting the decision. He could crush the flowers in Tyrannus’ clearing and feel sorry for himself, while still being grateful for the life the two of them still had. He could do both if he focused.

The grass outside Tyrannus’ lake was long and soft and it dipped under the weight of Simon’s body. The spring had brought flowers into the clearing as well; Simon only crushed a few of them. Tyrannus sat down next to the bull, running his dry fingers through the longer fur along his spine. 

“You are beautiful, Simon,” Tyrannus whispered. Simon’s left ear twitched, his tail flicked. “Do you understand me?”

Simon looked at him for a moment. His eyelashes were just as long as before. He blinked slowly. Tyrannus sighed, dipping his head forward against Simon’s. Tyrannus had wrinkles he didn’t have before. Simon wondered how old he was in this form. 

Hades had wanted man and water. Simon didn’t try to understand his quotas. 

“You are not a monster,” He whispered, closing his eyes and petting Simon’s cheek. “You are a hero.”

He sat back after a moment of quiet, plucking a flower from the ground and tucking it into the longer tuft of fur between Simon’s ears. The grass was soft beneath his body, and, between applying flowers, Tyrannus would scratch his fingers against Simon’s scalp.

Simon had a crown of yellow flowers littered in his fur by the time Tyrannus spoke again. He smiled at Simon, but his voice cracked. 

“You have saved my life. You are my hero.” He said, brushing under Simon’s eyes. Simon didn’t cry anymore- not like Tyrannus did when he thought Simon was asleep. “You are my husband.”

Simon closed his eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!! Find me on tumblr [here!!](https://motherscarf.tumblr.com/)


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